Camhanaich
by underthetulsasun
Summary: Camhanaich is the the moment when sun barely leaks into the sky. This is when they can let their walls down long enough to be children again. He knows exactly where he belongs and she's looking for herself in all the wrong places. They're not meant to be together. They're not meant to be happy. They're just lost in the little pieces of fate the universe left behind.
1. Chapter 1

Rhona found herself being carried along by the crowd. Buck Merrill's Roadhouse was never empty at this time of night, but Rhona had never been around to experience it firsthand. She didn't have the heart to tell her friend's that being pressed up against sweaty bodies that smelt like whisky and cheap cologne was not how she wanted to spend her night. But they had been excited to hear she finally had a Friday night off and Rhona never had the heart to disappoint anyone.

"Hey, take a breath huh? Sunday's are when you deal with homework, Scott" Loretta cooed from the backseat of Rhona's truck as they turned down the long gravel driveway towards the roadhouse. Even with the windows rolled down and the cool air seeping into her pores Rhona could almost taste the cheap wine that had settled on Loretta's breath. Leave it to Loretta to be past tipsy, but still feel her friend's anxieties radiating off her skin like a fever. Even with wine on her breathe Rhona trusted Loretta's judgment. If she felt like it was going to be okay, it most likely would be.

If this had been any other weekend, Rhona would have found herself sitting in the cabin of her truck alone. A cigarette dangling from her lips as she waited for her girls to trickle out one at a time. It would be dawn at this point, Friday night slowly becoming Saturday morning as the sun would peek out from behind the roadhouse like a headlight. Spotlighting those who left full of sin and regret from the night before. Bellies full of warm amber colored liquor. Rhona never knew what that felt like, but from the low giggles and sluggish grins that plastered her girls' faces once they crawled into the seats Rhona had a feeling it felt like a sweet, unfulfilling dream. You always wanted more.

"Take a shot of this, Scottie!" Brandie squealed as she placed the shot glass of clear poison in front of her friend. It smelt like straight alcohol. The kind her grandmother used to use to clean her scrapes with when she was a child.

"It doesn't smell good," her voice full of skepticism as the shot glass was pushed closer to her empty hand. The girls had settled at table towards the back. Far away from the poker games and the hustles from the pool tables, but close enough to the bars and to the single boys who occupied its stools.

"Well you ain't supposed to smell it," Brandie replied with the slightest roll of her eyes. They were blue in color and only seemed to brighten the more she drank.

"Here," Loretta chimed in as she sauntered up to the table with a glass of orange juice in her hand. "Take the shot, drink the juice, loosen up," a devilish smirk breaking across her face as Rhona balanced the shot and glass of juice in her hands.

Rhona counted to three at her own pace.

 _One._ Eyes scanning the room as she focused on the pool tables with the older men flocking around the green patchy baize. _Two._ The dance floor filled with bodies melting together like crayons left out in the sun. _Three_. Tim Shepard who watched from the corner of the room with a beer in his hand and that look in his eye. She drank. It burned every bit of the way down and the orange juice did little to hide the taste it left behind. Her eyes glanced back to Tim Shepard, who tipped his beer in response. Quickly she lowered her eyes away and a giggle escaped past her lips as her friends cheered and offered up another. This one burned less and she felt freer. Lighter. Like she could fly.

XxxxX

He remembered her. He remembered how his Gram and her Nana used to put them to work in their gardens. This was before he had any kind of taste in leadership. Before he knew what the inside of jail cell smelt like. Before he was Tim Shepard. At that point in his life, barely the age of six, he was just Timothy. He hadn't been Timothy for a while.

How the only two Scottish women in Tulsa ended up living next-door to each other was beyond him. His Gram used to call it the works of fate. As if somewhere in the big open universe there was a higher power pulling the strings on stars and creating a tangled web of relationships. Timothy used to believe his Gram and the workings of Fate, but Tim was too smart for faerie tales. Fate might have put everyone together for a reason but it was that same fate that took everyone away too.

Tim had never seen Rhona inside Merrill's place before. He was used to seeing her in the wee hours of morning, when he would roll of out of bed, over whatever girl he had conned into sleeping with him for the night. Lighting a cigarette out the window, he could always count on finding her heavy black truck sitting on the gravel. It rumbled in the silence of morning, breaking up the bird's songs before they even started to sing. She brought the world back to reality. Always there to collect whatever girl needed a ride home. Always there to comfort whatever girl had a bad night. Always there without fail. Period.

She downed two more shots before her friends got tired of watching her drink and trickled off to dance with whatever boys had been eyeing them from the sideline. Tim didn't leave his spot in the corner of the room. He was there to work, to watch, to make sure his territory stayed his another night.

Rhona stayed at the table and Shepard was sure it was because the four shots her friends made her take back to back were already starting to mess with her head. The thought made a wicked smirk press against his lips. He sipped on his beer to cover it.

She was a good kid still. As pure as they could get on the East side of town. And while it was a rare sight and something that anyone else would be proud of, Tim thought it was dumb. Being kind for too long meant that there always someone or something somewhere out there ready to take advantage of you. But maybe, that was just Tim. The neighborhood hadn't chewed her up and spit her out yet. Lord knows her mother tried.

"You gonna sulk all night?" Luis' low voice pushed Tim's thoughts away. A beer dangled from his buddies one hand and his girl hung tightly to the other. "Ain't a single River King here to ruin the party, Shep. You can let loose, find a doll, get your kicks while you're still young," his voice had a slow drawl that made him sound dumber than he was.

"I'm workin'," it was Tim's most common excuse, but it worked for the most part. If a gang leader said he was working, then he was working. Tim knew that Luis didn't buy it, but his buddy dropped it. He knew when Tim was looking for a challenge and when Tim was looking for a break. All Tim ever really needed was a break.

"I can find a girl for you Tim," Soledad finally chimed in with a sweet smile on her face. Her smiles always reached her eyes, because she was always genuine when it came to the people she cared most about. How Tim got roped into that category was another thing beyond him. Fate was funny.

"Nah," Tim finally replied with a smallest of looks in Rhona's direction. Lucky for him, Soledad was too busy studying her nails and Luis was too busy studying her. "I'm workin'," he repeated one last time and Soledad kicked her eyebrows up.

"Then you won't need this," she grabbed Tim's beer bottle from his hand and strangled the neck. She was right. He had been nursing that beer since they rolled in at the start of the party. It was warm now and he was just keeping it for looks.

His eyes found themselves back on Rhona. She was still in the same spot. Like Tim, she was just watching. Her eyes studied the room as if she feared one day she would forget it and maybe one day she would. He suddenly remembered sparrows. He ordered another beer.

XxxxX

 _"Do you know what it really means?" Her nana had once asked after she placed the heavy book of faerie tales onto her lap. Rhona remembered tracing her hand over the golden paint that made up the princess' hair and looked at Timothy with eyes as wide as the sky. Both had been picturing the same thing. A hero. A man who slayed dragons. "Knight in shining armor?" Nana had repeated the question, pulling Rhona and Timothy back to reality._

 _"A hero who saves the day," Rhona didn't hesitate to answer that time. She watched as her Nana shared a look with Timothy's gram. They always had those secret looks, as if the two were school girls passing each other notes._

 _"No, wee one." Her nana laughed kindly and cupped her granddaughter's face with a firm yet gentle grip, "A knight in shining armor did nothing for nobody." She released her granddaughter and refocused on both children sitting in front of her, "He never fought. He never won anything."_

 _Rhona remembered feeling like every faerie tale she was ever told was a lie. She felt betrayed by the book that now sat in her lap. She pushed it onto the floor and crossed her arms over her chest. Timothy, who never spoke unless he had too, continued to stay silent. He was waiting for the point._

 _"A knight in dented, scraped armor. That's you want." She pointed a single finger to Rhona and then turned it on Timothy, "That's what you should be."_

Like most nights, the party broke apart the lighter the sky became. Rhona knew it was time to find her girls when the music finally stopped. The air was silent and Rhona could finally feel the headache that had been pounding against her skull for the past hour. The alcohol from earlier made her sluggish and she felt sticky, but its dizzying affects had worn off a long time ago.

She knew her girls would find her. They usually would slink out to her truck on their own will after a party at Buck's. Most mornings she was just picking up Loretta and Brandie, but sometimes other girls would trickle out the house to meet her. Tough girls like Sylvia and Soledad. Stupid girls like Kathy and Angela. It didn't matter. She took them all home. She made them all feel safe after a night that broke their hearts.

Rhona, who had watched the night unfold from multiple parts of the house was back in the original corner table. She ran her fingers around rings left by cold beer bottles and counted the nicks in the wood while she waited. It wouldn't be long before the sun came up and the world started spinning again. Her eyes caught movement at the doorway that led to the kitchen and she looked up to find Tim Shepard, watching once more.

He looked the same. As if parties didn't affect him at all and maybe they didn't. There was something about Tim Shepard. The world didn't touch him the same as it did everyone else. Nothing could get close to him unless he let it.

He didn't drop his eyes when Rhona finally met his glance so she looked away first. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't a crime to look at Tim Shepard, but it sure felt like it was. She was sure that's what he wanted. To intimidate her and to keep her staring at the rings in the table.

"You've been up all night," she jumped at the sound of his observation. She hadn't heard him walk towards her, hadn't felt his presence behind her either. When she looked back at him, she found a crooked smirk pressed against his lips. She knew he was working to hide it.

"I think you have too," Rhona finally replied and Shepard nodded in response. He still didn't have much to say. "Enjoy your night?" She asked but he walked away as if he hadn't heard her at all. Rhona stared dumbfounded at the kitchen door that swung shut behind him and went back to tracing rings in the table.

She wasn't left to her thoughts for too long because Shepard came back. She had a feeling he would. If you could catch him at the right moment, he was six years old again. He slid a mug of coffee towards her as he sat down at the table.

"Sugar no milk, right Scottie?" He asked without looking at her. He was focused on his own mug. She knew how he liked to drink his coffee too. Straight. Black. Like his Gram.

"You know," Rhona spoke carefully in the hushed silence of the Roadhouse. "You're just as Scottish as me. Probably even more so."

"Am I?" He asked and she caught another one of his smirks before he was able to hide it behind his mug. They made eye contact but Rhona refused to look away.

"Sure," she spoke with a playful look in her eye. It caused Tim to shift and lean against the table. He waited for her to continue. "You're dad's family is from Aberdeen, your mom's family from Perth. Meanwhile my Ma's family was from Livingston and my father? Well his family was from Amarillo, Texas."

When Tim didn't say anything in response, Rhona continued. "You're far more Scottish than me. So why am I Scottie and you're just Tim?"

"Start running a gang here in town and then we'll talk," he took another sip from his coffee and added a "Scottie" as an afterthought.

Rhona glared but couldn't hold the look for long. Tim never took her seriously, so she had a hard time being serious around him. Her eyes traveled down to his mug and caught the fresh bruises and swollen knuckles forming on his hands.

"Who was on the other end of your fists?" She asked but she knew Tim would never tell her. "Your Gram would've lost her mind if she saw your hands looking like that. She always thought your hands were so good. That they were going to change some world," Rhona wasn't sure what made her say it, but she regretted the words as soon as they slipped out.

Tim sat in silence and Rhona took a deep breath. There was a reason the two of them stopped talking. Stopped searching for each other in crowds. Too much history between people spelled out disaster. It was better that they were strangers. Easier for both parties.

"Nice talking to you, kid." Shepard told her as he stood up. He left her behind with his half emptied coffee mug, she didn't blame him.

* * *

 _A/N: This is my first Outsider's story and was basically just playing with the idea of Tim Shepard. I hope some of you liked it or liked parts of it!_

 _Reviews are always appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

Her shift had ended early that night. Jay sending her out the door after he realized he was overstaffed again. The diner was nowhere near busy anymore, not after that new twenty-four-hour chain had opened where the Dingo used to sit. Jay's was too far from the Ribbon to get any teenagers to stagger in after a night of partying, so after the regulars left Jay was happy to send Rhona home.

She wasn't that ecstatic about the idea of losing hours, but she got over it when she remembered the pile of homework that was sitting on her desk at home. Out of all her friends that graduated, Rhona and Sylvia, were the only two that took the idea of community college seriously. Sylvia had once drunkenly told her that she wanted to open her own salon, but she wanted to know _how_ to run a business first. She could do hair, makeup, and nails blind, but she wanted to be successful at the business part too. When she asked Rhona if that made her sound silly Rhona could only shake her head no. Even Sylvia Fuentes had an idea of what to do with the rest of her life.

Rhona wasn't dumb. She was the farthest thing from dumb or unmotivated. She was just lost. Her mama was a drunk, her dad had a new family back in Texas, and her Nana just couldn't remember. Rhona knew she liked school and wanted to teach kids from her side of town to like it too, but whenever she brought up teaching to anyone that wasn't Loretta or Sylvia people would end up laughing. East Side girls were only good to marry and pop out a few east side children to do the same thing. The cycle was vicious, unforgiving, and unbreakable. Heaven knows girls have tried.

Homework plagued the back of Rhona's mind, but instead of taking left for the road that would lead her home. She continued forward. Straight for the Roadhouse as if something was tugging her along.

The music got louder the closer her truck rumbled up the drive, but instead of filling with anxiety like she had a few weekends back Rhona felt the flutter of excitement fill her belly. Since that night Loretta and Brandie dragged her out she had become more open to the idea of Buck Merrill's. She wanted to see more. Rhona pulled her truck into a vacant spot and grabbed her bag out from under her seat. Palming around in the dark for a mirror and some eyeliner Rhona touched up the heavy lines that made the green in her eyes pop.

"Jesus," she muttered when she realized that she was still in her diner uniform. The pale blue dress and greasy apron might've passed if this was a costume party, but if she rolled into Buck's like this no one would ever let her forget it.

Rhona started her truck back up with a string of curses, but the commotion from the porch caught her eye before she could throw her truck into reverse. Someone had been sent flying from the front door. They rolled in the gravel and came to a stop only a few feet away from her wheels. She didn't recognize him, but she did recognize the man who sent him flying. Tim Shepard and he had a hate burning behind the dark blues of his eyes.

From what Rhona could see, Tim's opponent was bigger and wasn't as drunk as he originally seemed. The guy jumped back to his feet and opened a switchblade he kept safe in his back pocket. Tim came barreling down the porch and ripped off the jean jacket had had been sporting. He flipped open his own blade as he slid to a stop in front of his opponent. A small crowd followed out of Buck's and Rhona scanned their faces. She recognized a handful of them as Shepard Boys. Loyal members of the gang who were ready to jump into the fight if necessary.

Rhona who couldn't seem to look away switched her truck off and watched. Shepard was waiting and Rhona held her breath. He was a smart fighter, but Rhona couldn't help but notice the smirk that was growing across Tim's face. _A challenge_ , Rhona thought, _Tim Shepard could never turn down a challenge._

XxxxX

 _"Well who did it?" Timothy asked but Curly was tight lipped even at six-years-old. The blood from his nose pooled and stained the neckline of his white t-shirt as Rhona did her best to stop the bleeding. One of her hands pinched the bridge of his nose and her other hand kept a handkerchief pressed to his face. He kept trying to sit up and look at Tim, but Rhona kept his head tilted back._

 _"Rhona let him talk!" Timothy snapped but instead of backing away from his brother she just stuck her tongue out at him. At ten years old, Rhona was just starting to become the biggest pain in his ass. She was the only kid on the block that didn't run in the opposite direction when she saw Timothy and his friends walking down the sidewalk._

 _"I think they broke his nose," Rhona's voice was quiet and she was doing her best not to freak Curly out more than he already was. When the tears began to pool in the corners of Curly's eyes Rhona smiled carefully and stopped pinching the bridge of Curly's nose just long enough to brush his hair back. "You're okay," she told him but Timothy wished she would just shut up._

 _He walked towards them and elbowed Rhona out of his way. She tripped over her feet and sent a glare in Timothy's direction. He ignored her and grabbed Curly by the shoulders to give him a shake._

 _"Tim chill out," Luis called from next to Rhona but Timothy ignored his friend. "You keep shaking him around like that and you'll cause more damage." That made Timothy pause and loosen his grip on his little brother. He crouched lower to be at eye-level with Curly._

 _"Tell me who did it Curly," he had never been so angry before. He had never felt so helpless before either. Some kid had beat up on his little brother and he wasn't there to help him. He cracked the knuckles in his fingers and wondered what if would feel like to break their nose. To break their arms._

 _"Timothy," Rhona kept her voice as even as possible before she passed the handkerchief to Curly's pudgy hands. The skin under his eyes was starting to swell and bruise now and Timothy began to see red. "Let's just get him to Nana Rose's." Rhona was trying to get his attention now. Her hands gripped his arm tightly, but he shook her off._

 _"Curly," Timothy growled and his little brother finally sucked in a wavering breath._

 _"Peter Williams" was all Curly needed to say before Timothy dropped his brother back onto the sidewalk and took off towards the next street. He could hear Luis' footprints follow him and feel a smirk spread across his lips as he narrowed in on his new opponent._

The beds in the Roadhouse were lumpy. All of them. They all smelt like stale smoke and spilt beer too. Tim wasn't sure how he ever slept in any of these beds. Of course, it was always after a sloppy lay with a chick, but he liked to believe he had higher standards than this.

"Just fuckin' sew me up," he groaned as Luis passed the bottle of clear alcohol to him. Shepard took a swig and swore again. He had Soledad hovering over him like a fly. She was drunk and he was sure the needle would pierce his nose before it made it to the open gash in his side.

"Just stop moving," Soledad replied but she stumbled over her own feet and Luis caught her before needle could catch any of Tim's unwounded flesh. She swore and Luis smiled sheepishly, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before sitting her down in the chair that sat in the corner of the room. Shepard had never hated them before, but he was starting to warm up to the idea. He took another swig from the bottle and swore.

"I'm bleeding to death," Tim spat as he sat up. A head rush hit him and wondered if all his blood was spilling out onto this cheap ass bed or if the alcohol was finally catching up to him. No one would probably even change the sheets after this. People would come up here after Tim was patched up and have a nice screw. Fuck. He couldn't remember the last time he had a nice chick to screw.

He almost slid back down to the pillow but he had more thing to say, "Fuckin' find me someone who can patch me up or give me the needle so I can do it myself." Luis stared at him and then motioned for Soledad to follow.

Soledad finally spoke once she was in the doorway. She looked back at Tim with one of her smiles and carefully told him "Ain't a single sober person here." She then ducked behind Luis, like Tim was going to chuck the bottle at her.

"Find one." Tim spit and the two left quickly. Leaving Shepard and his temper to himself.

XxxxX

Of course Loretta spotted Rhona's truck after the fight. She and her cousin Sylvia jumped into the cabin before Rhona had the chance to drive away and just as she expected her friends were quick to make fun of the light blue uniform that she was still wearing.

"Now this is an outfit that'll get you laid," Sylvia laughed as she plucked at the greasy white apron that was tied around her waist.

"I'm going to leave now," Rhona flicked Sylvia's hand away and the two cousins laughed again. "Really, get out of my truck."

"Lo siento," the smile didn't leave Sylvia's face but she did throw her hands up in mock surrender. "I am sorry! Come inside, Chica. We can get drunk." She clapped her hands together and made the small frown that had settled on Rhona's face falter into a small smile.

"Cállate Sylvia!" Loretta laughed as she took off her jean jacket and spread it across Rhona's lap. "If you take off the apron it looks like a regular dress," Loretta promised with a wink.

"Besides," Sylvia leaned closer to Rhona and removed the clip that held her hair in a bun. Her locks fell limply at her shoulders and Sylvia ran her fingers between the strands in an attempt to untangle it. "Everyone's drunk off their ass anyway. They won't notice that you're wearing a diner uniform."

"And if we get you drunk enough tonight you won't notice either." Loretta squeezed Rhona's shoulder and she followed her friends into the Roadhouse.

XxxxX

He had asked them to find someone sober and they delivered like he knew they would but, Rhona was the last person he thought he would see. She looked tired and unsure of why she had followed Luis and Soledad up the stair case. He found his eyes trail lazily up her body and felt the corners of his mouth twitch when he realized she was still in her work uniform. He couldn't help it. Sometimes he forgot that she was just the girl he grew up around. A lot of the times he caught himself watching her walk down the street. Most of the time he wished he could forget about her all together.

"Where's the needle?" She asked without even so much of a glance in Tim's direction. Soledad handed the needle over and Tim watched as Rhona held it up to the dim lighting. A crease appeared between her brows and she made a face in Luis and Soledad's direction. "Did you sterilize it?"

The two stared at her questionably and a small smile appeared on Rhona's lips and she waved them away "It's okay. I got it from here."

"You want us to stay?" Luis asked and Tim shook his head. His head hurt and he needed the room to stop spinning. "We'll be downstairs."

"I'll send a girl up to make you feel better later, aye Tim" Soledad laughed and Shepard felt his blood boil slightly.

"Get out." Tim told her and watched as the door swung shut behind them. His eyes landed back on Soledad who was now fishing around the room for something. He didn't want to snap at her, but he wasn't feeling well and the faster she stitched him up the faster he would get some sleep.

"Can we get this over with?" Tim asked and she sighed, closing one of the dresser drawers with her hip.

"I just figured there would be a lose lighter somewhere." She explained before sitting down on the edge of the bed. She held it up to the light again and Tim watched her thread it with nimble and practiced fingers.

"You want a smoke?" he asked. He rolled with a cringe and pulled the pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans. "Matches are in my jacket."

She lifted the jacket off the floor and felt around. She struck a match and held the small flame up to the tip of the needle as Tim lit up a smoke. Once she seemed satisfied with the quality of the needle she sucked in a deep breath and waited for Tim to lay back.

He closed his eyes once she pressed one of her cold hands to his chest. The gash in his side was still bleeding but it didn't hurt as bad as it did. Tim could thank the alcohol for that. He listened to the softness of her breathing as she slid the needle through his flesh.

XxxxX

"I think this is the best patchwork I've seen," Shepard commented as Rhona tossed the bloodied towels into the corner of the room. Her fingers were stained a crimson in color and some blood had found its way onto her uniform, but Rhona had to agree. She had sewn him up quickly and near perfectly.

"You should get yourself a drink, Kid. You deserve it." She smiled when he told her this and then reached over to pick up the pack of cigarettes that were sitting on the nightstand. She lit it up and blew the smoke up towards the ceiling. For the smallest of moments, she was captivated by the intricate swirls that disappeared into thin air.

"You need anything else?" Rhona asked once she realized she had been standing in the room for too long. She pulled Loretta's jacket closer to her shoulders and watched Tim's chest rise and fall before he opened his eyes to look at her again.

"I'll let you know if I think of anything." He didn't try to hide the smirk that time and Rhona couldn't help but smile in return. As she turned to leave Tim called out to get her attention one more time, "Lock the door. I don't need whoever Soledad wants to send up here tonight."

"You got it, Shepard." She told him before she twisted the lock and shut the door behind her.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter as it was so very difficult to write. Writer's block is my worst enemy 24/7._

 _Let me know what you guys think! Reviews good or bad are always appreciated!_


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